


Bleeding Roses

by TwistedViolets



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Brief Thoughts Of Abortion, Drug Use, From druggie to Daddy material, Giving Birth, Lactation, Omega Klaus, Omega Verse, Pack Dynamics, Pheromones, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Scents, Sibling Bonding, Teen Pregnancy, Tiny bit of blood/gore, Unwanted Pregnancy, supportive family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:16:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24414211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedViolets/pseuds/TwistedViolets
Summary: Klaus sneaks out to a party at sixteen. He doesn’t expect to find himself pregnant afterward but hey, life enjoys laughing at him so he really should have expected it.
Relationships: Klaus/Unknown Alpha
Comments: 6
Kudos: 208





	Bleeding Roses

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been meaning to get back into writing longer fics! Lately I’ve fallen in a trap of 1000 word oneshots and I’m over it.
> 
> Excuse any typos. I’m still looking it over. <3
> 
> If there are any tags you think this is missing let me know! I wasn’t really sure what to tag ;-;

"Klaus no," Ben's voice is shaky, his hands already extended outward as if unsure whether he wanted to comfort him or punch him.

At this point, he'd accept either. His head won't stop spinning, the room is moving further and further from him and- he's trembling all over. God, he can't even feel his fingertips as he digs around in the baggie of pills.

Just two will make it all go away. That's all it takes to stop the withdrawal...

"Klaus," Ben calls again, so very broken as Ben himself begins to tremble. "Let's talk about this. Please don't take those."

He presses his back against the tile wall, the bathroom's white glow blinding him and for a moment and all he can do is breathe again and again. It's all setting in, just happening, the reality of what that little pink test on the floor means.

He's pregnant.

He's really fucking pregnant.

Like he has an actual pup inside his womb, growing, alive- and god all he can smell is his own panic as he cracks his head back against the tile in an attempt to clear it. It does little to help, only causes him to want it more- the end of that being inside.

He never wanted a pup.

He shoves a hand full of pills into his mouth, swallowing fast and hard, watching as Ben practically flinches away with horror. "Klaus...you're going to kill it- please think about this! It's just a pup-"

"Just a pup?" He laughs, digging the back of his palms against his eyes as his stomach cramps, pills dissolving and providing immediate relief. "You're right. It's just a pup and I'm just a fuck up. As if I'm fit to raise one of those...don't they say children turn out like their parents?" He swallows, his skin crawling underneath from disgust. "I will not be another Reginald."

"You're nothing like him."

He curses underneath his breath before he's over the toilet with two fingers in his mouth. He gags a few times before he begins throwing up, rotten undissolved chunks of chicken and milk...pills float among the disgusting slew of bile.

"Fuck me," Klaus whispers as he leans back, wrapping a hand around his stomach, his head turned upward, staring at a white ceiling, praying to an uncaring god.

He just...he just doesn't know how to feel about it, this, about everything. How is he supposed to face real life anymore after being so dependent on drugs? How is he supposed to just...give them up, cold turkey, for the sake of a baby he doesn't even want?

Panic smells disgusting, even more disgusting than the toilet bowl. He stands, swaying with lightheadedness as he flushes the toilet. "It's going to be okay," Ben tells him with a comforting gaze but it's all wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

He tosses the pregnancy test in the trash can underneath the sink before washing out his mouth with water. A knock at the door brings his heart rate right back up into his throat. Just the very thought that it could be his father- it could be that monster that somehow just knew.

"Are you almost done in there?" Diego asks impatiently, a subtle tapping of a foot against the wooden floor draws on.

"Fuck off," he answers, it isn't like there aren't other bathrooms and quite frankly he is not feeling that hot right now. He clenches the sides of the sink, staring into the mirror, at the way his hair sticks to his forehead and the bags underneath his eyes that just seem to keep growing. 

The bathroom door opens, just like that, and Diego peers in with narrowed eyes before he sees him, really sees him. "You look like shit," Diego remarks, kicking a foot back against the doorway. 

"I feel like it," he mutters, splashing water on his face before taking another deep breath.

"What's got you so upset? We can practically smell your panic from our rooms-"

We-there's more than just Diego.

Who else is there? Who else cares about his scent? About his discomfort? 

"Fine," he sighs, leaning off the sink, raising his hands up and stretching, cracking his back as he does so. "Just a bad trip."

"You sure?" Diego asks with narrowed eyes, still so accusing.

"Sure, D"

He taps Diego's shoulder as he leaves the bathroom, trying so hard to act okay. Like he's fine with being pregnant, like he's fine with a being moving around inside of him, like he's fine becoming a monster like his father.

Like father like son-

No child deserves a family like this one.

...

"You smell different..." Allison pointed out as if it was nothing. As if she didn't notice the way his skin crawled and his eyes shot open with panic.

How could she do it so easily? Make him so uncomfortable that all he wanted to do was melt into the floors and disappear. But of course, he couldn't do that so his hands just paused in her closet, old dusty skirt in his hands, and he takes a deep breath.

Once he inhales he smells it too-the strange new scent that is utterly his own.

"Oh? Are you saying I stink-"

"No! Never-" Allison puts her hands up defensively although he hadn't meant for her to take offense- "it's not that it's actually the opposite. You smell...I don't know- sweeter?"

He shrugs it off, pulling the skirt out of the closet before spinning around and facing Allison with a smile. Probably not as bright as usual, probably not as happy and whatever- but it's a smile and it does its job.

Allison's composure becomes less worried.

"Thanks, I guess? Sorry if it's bothering you-"

"It's not," she says quickly as if attempting to defend herself and simultaneously make him feel better.

"Thanks for the skirt," he says and quickly leaves through the door before she can gather enough of her wits together to protest his thievery. "You're the best~" he practically sings as he slips into his own room and proceeds to work his way out of his pants before slipping on the skirt.

He waits for the feeling of peace and happiness to fill him and he keeps waiting. He lays down, he rolls over, he kicks his feet, he feels a slight breeze over his bits but he didn't feel better.

He feels lost.

...

"It'll be fine," said no one ever when they found out they're pregnant and don't even know which alpha it was that knocked them up.

Not that he's speaking from personal experience but he can't even remember their names. Was it Sam and Alex? No, that's it right. He remembers them slipping him a little pill that melted on his tongue quite beautifully.

Their names though? As if that was important. As if anything even mattered anymore now that he's pregnant and has basically driven himself to become a homemaker even though he promised himself he would never.

He would never be his father.

"Dinner," Luther said, knocking on his door, bringing him from his thoughts and he immediately hears the distant ringing. "Are you okay? You never miss a meal."

"Fine," he said, sitting up and shaking out any unhealthy thoughts- but they just sort of fell down into his throat and made a lump. He stands anyway, disregarding Luther's look of disbelief, and slides the skirt off and instead pulls on the tight pants his father thought were the most amazing invention since sliced bread.

Which his father practically outlived but hey, he's not judging. Whatever floats his father's boat is fine by him- after all, if he fought it he'd not like to think of the consequences.

"I'm starving," he says, breaking the weird gaze Luther has on him and when he tries to squeeze by his brother his arm is grabbed and he's forced to stop. "Hey what's the-"

"You-" Luther leans in, looking at him very closely-"is that a hickey?" 

He feels the way his heart thumps and his face wants to turn hot but he fights it. Instead, he laughs and doesn't slap a hand over his neck as much as he really really wants to. Because he doesn't do embarrassment yet all he wants to do is be embarrassed.

"Are you jealous," he hisses and receives a heavy sigh from his brother.

His brother who smells of disappointment. "I thought you said you were done with that kind of stuff Klaus? You know how upset dad gets when you flaunt your...omega status in public. What if...what if you got pregnant-"

He doesn't hear a word after that. His heartbeat just takes up his entire mind and all he can do is stand there, wide-eyed, and feel how every one of Luther's words is judging him without even realizing it.

"As if Luther- I know how to use protection-" except he didn't and look what happened.

Luther looks unimpressed with him.

...

His father has to know. He's glaring so heavily at him, not even touching his food once, but making sure to trace every outline of his skin until he's sure he's been violated.

He shovels bite after bite in his mouth, fighting the instinctual need to hide his face away from his alpha's eyes. His alpha who is very keen on keeping everyone in his pack in line.

His alpha- his father is not as naive as his siblings. That look in his eyes said it all and well, he was subconsciously preparing himself for death as he ate every bit of pork he could, knowing more likely than not that this would be his last meal.

Funny, he thought he'd go out with fireworks but he supposes at the hand of his father ain't bad either. It's sorta...beautiful in a way or maybe that's the relief talking.

If his father kills him he won't have to deal with a pup.

He bites his own tongue, feeling sharp pain and blood taint his tastebuds- and he feels guilty. It's an omega thought popping it's way into his head, making him think that he should protect this pup with his life- protect it, love it, cherish it.

He tries so hard to fight those thoughts. They aren't him, they're just a part of him he's been fighting since he was thirteen and puberty hit him harder than a train going 95 miles per hour on its way straight into a brick wall.

Hormones were awful. Heats were awful. Being the only omega was even worse than all the small parts of being an omega entailed. For no one, not even his omega mother could understand what he was going through, the need to breed and nest- for she is no more omega than his siblings.

She was created by his father who thinks little of omegas.

"Number Four," His father finally spoke as dinner is coming to a close. "Stay after Dinner. We have much to discuss."

He nods.

His siblings look at him apologetically, most likely figuring this is a late punishment for his 'late night adventure.'

...

"You are with child," his father said with an air of irritation, as if this was so much worse for his father- than him, the one actually housing a pup in his womb.

"Yes," he said, figuring there'd be no point to try to hide it from his father. "How did you-"

"I could smell you as soon as you entered the dining room. Your siblings might not know the scent of a pregnant omega but I certainly do. What do you have to say about this misfortune?"

Right- it's a misfortune. Somehow hearing someone else say it, his father no less, makes him feel better. Someone else doesn't like the idea of a pup, someone else thinks it's terrible, someone else thinks it's just awful. 

He pulls at a loose string of his sweater, uncomfortable with how heavily his father is staring at him. Usually, he barely got a look from his father but now, with the man's full attention, he could barely contain his discomfort and he's sure his scent must be full with it.

"Number Four."

His head shoots up, his hands now balled into his pants on instinct and he tries not to feel the burning pain in his eyes. The one that comes before the gushing of tears. "I'm sorry-" he inhales and exhales, his eyes still burn-"I'm so, so sorry."

His father stares at him, his scent was no different than any other day, it screamed of his indifference. "You're lucky you weren't useful. Now at least with this, you will be able to have a use and a chance for further importance. What if the child has abilities? What if the child is special?" His father looks pleased now, his alpha, his pack leader looks down upon him with a look of scientific curiosity and he knows that look never means good things.

"But-"

"No buts Number Four. This is the most useful you've been to me in years. Be proud of that fact and keep your head low. I'd prefer if the other children kept their noses out of this."

This is wrong- all of this is so fucking wrong that he thinks his ears must be playing tricks on him. His father was supposed to hate the pup not fucking welcome it with open arms, even if only for his sick curiosity.

He doesn't want this pup.

He doesn't want it.

He's forced to keep it.

"Please see Pogo before you go to bed," His father said and with that, he was dismissed.

...

Pogo is uncertain about the whole thing. "A pup? And Sir Hargreeves is interested in it? Oh, this can't be good-but of course I'm happy for you." Pogo walked around the laboratory, gathering a few different supplies as worry etched its way across his features. Pogo is too old for this stress, isn’t he?

"Here," Pogo handed him a few patches, scent concealers he knows, and a bottle of pills which he is unfamiliar with. "Those are to help with your- well master Klaus your breasts."

He went pink and almost choked on his own spit. "What?" He said, hoarsely, not even having a chance to wet his mouth before he spoke. 

"Your breasts will begin to-" Pogo looks away then back- discomfort showing all over him-"plump up and you will begin to produce milk."

Right.

He knew that.

So why is he panicking?

"Master Klaus it's natural, please don't be upset at your own body. These pills will prevent any of that from happening if you so choose, but I'll leave that up to you. There are many ways to feed young these days and your milk is not necessary."

He nodded but he wasn't really listening. He couldn't. He just couldn't wrap his head around it all and even though he knew and he heard and he was surely processing it...it just felt too unreal that he couldn't do anything but sit there for a good moment, still as a corpse and probably as pale as one.

As if on command a blue-lit figure begins to pace back and forth behind pogo, their head chopped open, blood spilling down their body, and his breath hitches and his eyes close.

It's not real.

It's not real.

It's not- but it is. It's real. It's always fucking real, never some nightmare he could just forget no matter how hard he tries to.

"They can't hurt you," he hears Ben somewhere and he nods.

Inhale and exhale.

"Master Klaus?" He opens his eyes and the figure is gone.

"Good- I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

...

The bottle of pills sits on his nightstand and he stares at them for what seems like hours. Moonlight dances along his skin, his eyelids, but he just can't get his mind to stop working.

Should he take them?

Should he give up his way of providing for his pup?

His heart squeezes and it feels so painful. The very thought makes his entire being crumple in a ball and all he can do is close his eyes and wait for his hormones to calm. He's has too many things on his mind right now.

He never wanted to be a parent, he never wanted a pup...so why is his body suddenly so for the idea. So for providing and protecting and smothering it with love and affection.

It makes him sick.

He picks up the bottle and shoves it into the nightstand drawer, cursing himself for feeling so weak.

...

In the morning he slaps on a scent concealer before breakfast. When he gets to breakfast and takes his seat, his mouth waters over the bacon and he eats a few pieces before melting over.

God, he doesn't even like bacon.

He's just hungry, he just needs to provide for his pup.

He just-

He tries not to think about it anymore as if that could help.

"Number Four will no longer be participating in group training," his father announces at the end of breakfast and no one really questions it since he had been more invested in personal training most days.

...

Days pass then weeks and before he knows it he's laying down in a cot and Pogo is drawing his blood. "Are you nervous, Master Klaus?"

He shakes his head. It's so soon, it's all too soon. Nine weeks already? Where's the time gone except into meaningless book readings and countless hours of self-doubt.

"Do you wish for a boy or a girl?"

Pogo takes his blood away to test it, walking so steadily that it's hard to watch. "Neither," he said- or at least he wanted to but he really just shrugged his shoulders which was stupid, Pogo couldn't see him.

"That's quite alright if you don't have a preference. Most parents don't, all they wish for is a healthy pup and anything other than that isn't important."

He closes his eyes, hands coming up instinctively to rub at his chest. Slow, short pawing, and he feels sharp pains and- his nipples harden up so much it hurts and he hates himself. He hates that even after having those pills he just couldn't do it.

He couldn't deny the deep dark part of himself that wanted a pup even though he knew he didn't deserve something so great.

"It's a girl but it's quite too early to determine the dynamic," Pogo walks back over with a smile on his lips. "Congratulations, Master Klaus."

He feels like he's going to throw up.

...

Over the toilet he's gagging, watching as his lunch is lost, and the smell only makes it worse. 

"You good?" Diego pops his head in, asking the question with little actual concern.

"Good," he managed to say before another wave of nausea hits him.

_It's a girl._

It's a precious little princess that he'll bring into a world so cruel and unforgiving. How will he be able to protect her? How will he provide for her? How will he even know his milk is any good after all the shit he's put in his body?

The thought causes him to panic so hard that he ends up throwing up again.

...

Nearly 8 weeks later he's on the cot again, this time he feels kicking, life. An actual sign that all this hasn't just been some big joke on him but actual truth and well, it's unsettling.

It's even worse when Pogo's hands are on his stomach, smiling when he feels a kick, so happy about this baby. "It's so active," Pogo says and he sounds so genuinely happy about it that he can't help but smile too.

"Always."

Pogo nods before spreading a cold clear gel on his stomach, preparing him for the ultrasound. But nothing could ever prepare him to see it, his little baby girl. The video on the screen was real, it showed the pup inside his stomach moving its arms and legs.

And it's just so real that all he can do is stare at her and have some sort of relief hit him. It's real. It's really really real and somehow he's glad. Somehow he's so happy to see that baby that he just starts to cry and he can't help it really.

Pogo smiles at him, all knowingly.

"You're going to be a good father," Pogo said and he just cries even harder.

...

He's seven months pregnant, hasn't done any training in those months and his siblings haven't seemed to miss him any. He mainly stays in bed, rebelling in how big his stomach is getting, so round and amazing that all he can do is rub his hands over it and feel kicks. So many little kicks that his heart jumps from happiness.

He's finally feeling happiness over his pup. So relieved each time he feels a kick and knows that it's healthy- his little princess is healthy because he's providing so nicely for her.

Always eating the foods Pogo recommends, even though he hates half of them, he just wants to be a good father. He wants to be so good for his pup.

"Have you gained weight?" Luther asks, bringing him from his thoughts and he jolts. He hadn't realized Luther was at the door.. "It's probably because dad stopped making you train with us."

"Maybe I just like to eat," he says, going back to his crocheting he had long forgotten.

"Whatever."

He rolls his eyes, as if Luther could understand what it's like to be expecting. To be big and plumb and have constantly hard and raw nipples that rub against everything and drive him to cry some nights. Ah, his breasts are growing bigger and he knows at some point he won't be able to hide it.

"Are you ever going to tell them?" Ben asks him, not even looking up from his book.

"I...I don't know."

He doesn't want to tell them. He doesn't want them to look down on him and make him feel terrible about it. Not after he finally feels good, after he's finally accepted it.

He just wants to be happy about his pup for just a little longer.

...

Grace is extremely excited about the idea of a grand pup. She's practically purring around him all the time. 

She helps take off his shirt, and he feels self-conscious although he knows he's never been conscious about this kind of thing before. But now he's pregnant, now his breasts are so full they are beginning to sag and cause mild discomfort and his nipples have begun to leak.

Grace brings over a breast-pump and gently explains how to use it. She guides him through it. "We will store the bags in the freezer," she says, gently turning the machine on and attached it to his left nipple. It...it's so strange.

It sucks, and he doesn't know why he feels such pride at seeing the milk bag fill up. Or why his breast feels so much relief.

"You're doing good, sweetheart. It'll be good if you can do this daily but if it's too uncomfortable a few times a week will work."

He nods.

Grace kisses his forehead. "I'm so proud of you," she whispers and he feels that she means every word when she looks at him. Her eyes light up with such pride and warmth that he can't help but smile.

"Thanks, Mom," he whispers and he feels so, very proud.

...

"Are you pregnant?" Diego finally asks, his brother finally catching on to his big belly and connecting it to his breasts that are beginning to tent his shirts.

"Yes," he smiles, so proud, so happy about it that he just wants to spill all the things that he's so proud of.

"Wow," Diego said, coming closer, taking a seat on the side of his bed. "Why didn't you tell me? I can tell you're...far along."

"I...I thought you'd be upset."

"Why?"

_Because it happened at a party. Because it happened while he was high. Because it happened with some alpha he doesn't even know. Because he was being a slut._

"Thought you'd be jealous of the pup," he smirks and Diego looks away with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm happy for you, Klaus. I might not always be your number one but things happen and well I'll settle for being your number two. As long as I get to be the favorite uncle."

He's so happy.

He keeps talking and talking and Diego just listens.

...

The rest of his siblings learn from Diego of his pregnancy and aren't too upset about it. Not like he imagined and maybe he was just a little too hard on himself. Of course, they wouldn't be upset and angry at him...pups are blessings.

"I never took you to be the first to have a pup," Allison said as she painted his nails. "I'm kinda upset at myself for not realizing sooner that you were pregnant. I mean... come on, usually, you come to me before a heat for cuddles."

"I know you've all been busy with your own lives. Dad's been pushing really hard lately at you all and I get it."

"Does dad know?" She asks and for a moment his heart jumps. He nods. "And he let you live?"

"Yup, I'm just that beautiful."

She laughs as she switches to a different color nail polish. "Have you thought of a name?"

No...he hasn't. In fact, he hadn't even considered that his princess would need one.

"Lucy? Clementine? Oh, there are so many, perhaps Alice?"

...

Eight months pregnant and a nursery is being put together. A crib, a rocking chair, a few miscellaneous decorations. Nothing extreme but he appreciates his father even making a conscious effort.

...

"We can test for the dynamic now," Pogo informs him on his weekly checkup. 

"I'm good," he said as he smiled. "I'd rather find out the old fashioned way. Wait and see- you know. I'm sure daddy dearest will appreciate the effort. After all, that's what he did with us."

Pogo nods.

...

He stops wearing his scent concealers. Everyone already knows so what's the point anymore? He wasn't prepared for how sweet his scent was, how much it overpowered a room, and relaxed every person within it.

His siblings instinctually grow closer to him, wanting, needing to protect and take care of him, as his pregnant pheromones made them worry about him.

He accepted the worry and liked how they fussed over him. Sometimes bringing him fruits. Sometimes offering to massage his back. Sometimes offering to prepare a bubble bath. 

They are so much kinder to him then they've ever been. For once...he really feels like he's in a family. A kind loving family who cares about him.

...

Six days until he's due and he's being checked once again. Pogo says everything is fine.

... 

Three days until he's due. His stomach is so big it's about to pop!

...

He's due today and he knows it. His contractions started about three hours ago and he's been walking the halls ever since. Diego on one side of him, Allison on the other, both whispering sweet things to him to keep him from yelping out from the sudden piercing pains.

It's been so long since he had felt pain.

"Inhale and then exhale," Allison tells him, rubbing a hand up and down his arm.

"You're doing so good," Diego whispers, his scent is strong, protective, a good alpha scent that helps him deal with the pain.

"Thanks," he mutters but it's drowned out from his sibling's support.

So much support.

...

"Push! Push!" They- he doesn't know who anymore screams at him, and he's pushing but he can't even feel anything but pain. "Push!"

He's holding someone's hands, his vision blurs but he thinks it's Diego on one side and Allison on the other. His legs are propped up with Grace at his end, helping the baby come out.

"Fuck," this is all some stupid alpha's fault. Mother fucker knocked him up and now he's gotta deal with this pain of all pains.

"Stop!" He doesn't register it at first, someone screaming at him. "Klaus you have to stop pushing."

There's rushing around, Luther grabs a pair of scissors before handing them to Grace. Diego holds his hand tightly before speaking, panicking. "Klaus for the love of god stop pushing or you're going to kill it!"

He does stop, he stops even though his entire body is screaming at him to push, even though every single second is pure agony he stops. And he cries and screams and all he can do is pull Diego closer and cling to his arm so hard he's sure his brother will bruise but he just can't control himself.

"What's wrong?" He tries to say but it all gets lost in the chaos and before he knows it everything picks back up again.

"Push!" Grace said and he did, one more push and he felt a great relief wash over him.

The first cry of his newborn pup made his heart pick up so fast that he couldn't stop smiling even as his body radiated pain.

...

Holding his pup for the first time brings him so much pride. He wants to show her off, show little Clem to everyone. He wants to say look at this, look at this beautiful pup I made.

She's perfect. The way she snuggles into his chest, her little fingers grasping his bigger one. Oh, she's everything he never knew he needed.

"The umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck," Grace said as she was cleaning up around him. Luther is adjusting his IVs. "If you kept pushing you would have straggled her but you didn't. That must have been hard and I'm proud of you."

"You did great Klaus." Luther praises him, gently reaching a hand out to rub the backside of his baby, little Clem.

...

The baby latches onto his nipple easily, sucking, her warm little mouth getting the nutrients from him. He's so proud of her, of what he's made that he can't even do anything but smile for days. Even though he's exhausted and wants to sleep for the rest of his life, he just can't get over her rosy cheeks and light brunette hair.

She's perfect.

She's so very perfect.

He wouldn't trade her for the whole wide world.


End file.
